I approached my meal last night with equal parts, excitement (unlimited MEAT!!) and anxiety. While living in Manhattan, I'd had quite a few meals at Riodizio (now defunct) and Churrascaria Plataform and all were not just tasty, but fun. Both of those spots had a certain festive vibe that never failed to put me in a better mood.
Alas, Fogo de Chao was more in the vein of "suck the life - and the dollars - out of me." The space is as large, and as soulless, as the portions. I waited for my friend in the quiet, smoky bar. I heard conversation coming from a gang of six or seven at the bar, but no music, mood or otherwise. My expectation was that Fogo would use music to inspire a sense of place; namely the south of Brazil the slick table cards kept talking about. Nope, no music.
As for the smoke, given the number of people smoking both cigars and cigarettes, perhaps this is meant to be a cigar bar? I don't know really. If it is, fine, but given that they don’t seem to have good air filtration this bar is not for me. I felt smelly and congested five minutes in (and yes, I considered myself un-smelly when I walked in
).
It's also not for me in that the place felt generic from the aforementioned table cards spelling out the concept (lots of "TM" symbols scattered throughout). ). I almost felt like I was in an upscale TGIFriday’s. The nice-enough bar server brought me some sort of cheese rolls as well as the caipirinha I ordered. I ate one roll and had that “they are bad, but bad-good” feeling that made me want to move the basket to some faraway. Instead, I quickly put away four of the doughy little knots when my friend arrived. I also wanted to put my too-sweet caipirinha on some table that was not mine; it lacked that sweet-tart balance that usually makes me drink them like water.
Anyway…friend and I were taken to our table in the enormous dining room which was probably 1/3 full at 7:15 on a Thursday night. Probably not a good sign. The dining room struck me as reminiscent of one you’d find on a cruise ship. Large, lots of dark wood, hundreds if not thousands of bottles lining the walls.
One of the servers came by to introduce us to the concept. Soon “gauchos” wearing belts no self-respecting pro wrestler would be caught dead in began arriving, announcing the type of meat they possessed on their skewers.
The food came at us rapidly. To say the procession was fast and furious would be to understate things (and remember, I experienced this sort of thing and liked it so if I found it overwhelming, that’s not a great sign). We quickly realized that we’d need to put a halt to this if we were going to have a moment to peruse the ginormous salad bar in the center of the room.
The salad bar, in our opinion, could be skipped completely. If I want prosciutto, I’ll go to Dino or some other spot known for fresh, thin, perfect slices; Fogo’s thick rolls of ham can’t help but dry out when sitting there on the buffet. The same could be said for medium-sized balls of fresh mozzarella sprinkled with herbs. They were just ok, and I’d rather hold out for better.
The meat parade resumed. I liked the picanha, a fatty cut with just the right number of salt flecks on its grilled exterior that was one of several the gauchos called “our signature” and the pork sausage (yum). Chicken wrapped in bacon was overcooked and so dry. The lamb was OK. I liked parmesan-crusted pork loin well-enough. Filet, both with bacon and without, was mostly good although there was great variability with respect to doneness. Pork ribs were overseasoned. Actually most of the food struck me as heavy on the salt.
Sides that came with our meal included decent-but-nothing-special polenta squares, mashed potatoes with a little sprinkling of chives and cheddar cheese, and sautéed bananas (I was hoping for plantains). Again, nothing was great or terrible.
It quickly sank in that this was not going to become my go-to spot for a fun night out with visiting relatives. Bummer.
Gluttons for punishment that we are, we ordered dessert. Not that it was bad. Just that I can’t imagine that many people manage to find room. I enjoyed my tres leches, but don’t feel that I have experienced enough iterations of this dessert to comment on its authenticity or “goodness.” I just thought it was tasty. My friend’s flourless chocolate cake tasted good too, but again, I was hoping for more interesting desserts.
A trip to the restrooms up a rather grand staircase reveals that there’s a whole ‘nother dining room up there. It was roped off and not being used given that the downstairs wasn’t crowded and that’s a shame. The space is much more intimate and attractive. Sporting its own bar, it looks like a nice place for a private event (if the food were worth returning for, that is).
Total damage for my party of two: $154 (including one drink each, the $44.50 all-you-can-eat set up, two desserts, tax and tip). I’m still at a point in my life where spending $75 on an everyday, non-special occasion meal hurts. For Komi, I’d gladly pay twice that. For Fogo de Chao, even if it had been $50, I’d have felt a little steamed. I can’t imagine any circumstance where I’d go back. It’s just not worth it. I’d much rather head up to Astoria, NY to try Churrascaria Tropical.
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